


Or Best Offer

by were_lemur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Author has nothing better to do on Valentine's day than binge-watch Supernatural, Demon Deals, Other, Reader-Insert, Unrequited Love, reader is gender-neutral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6010543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were_lemur/pseuds/were_lemur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A demon makes you (reader) an offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or Best Offer

You find out later that the demons have been going around making the offer to everyone. Cheaper and easier than killing you, and they've got bigger fish to fry than a bunch of low-level hunters.

But at 4 a.m., all you know is that the night manager you'd been casually perving over at check-in is standing outside the door, eyes gone all-black and smiling like every used-car salesman you've ever known.

You're dead. You do okay against ghosts and vampires and ghouls, but demons are so far out of your weight class that it's not even funny. But you grab your shotgun anyway because you are a hunter and you're going to go out like one.

"I just wanted to talk," says the thing that's wearing the night manager. He gestures down at the meat suit. "You don't have to ventilate this guy. He's got a wife. Three kids, another one on the way. And, unfortunately, no life insurance. Tsk, tsk."

"It figures," you mutter. Unavailable is your type.

"I wanted to make you an offer. One-time deal, before the hammer comes down." 

And you know you should pull the trigger, but if the demon wants you dead you're dead, and if he doesn't there's his meat to think about. You don't want to add another name to the list of people you couldn't save. Not if you don't have to.

So you listen as the demon lays out his offer. Everything you've talked about to the other hunters on long nights at the Roadhouse or whatever dive bar in whatever crappy little town your paths happened to cross in. The house in the 'burbs, the husband, the dog, maybe kids someday.

"No." You're surprised at how easy it is to say. But maybe it's not a surprise, because deep down, that's never been what you wanted.

"I've just offered you everything you claimed you wanted." And the demon is smiling, now, like he knew all along that this would be the answer he would get and you just walked into his trap like a sucker.

"You made your offer, I said no. Now let this poor guy get back to his family."

"This works better if I can offer you what you really want."

"There are some things that aren't in your power to give." And then, because you never did know when to shut up. "You don't even have what I want any more."

The demon smiles again. "Dean Winchester is never going to love you."

You don't trust your voice, so you say nothing as the demon continues.

"You're nothing to him. An acquaintance. A fellow soldier. Someone he'd include if he was buying a round. When you die -- and you will die, soon, if you don't take my offer -- he might stop by to pay his respects. If he's in the area. And has nothing better to do. But you will leave him as untouched in death as you have in life."

"I know, I've known all along, so now that we've established you can't give me what I want, can you let the poor guy you've possessed go?"

"What if you forgot that Dean Winchester even existed?" 

Like that's ever gonna happen. You were a goner from the first time you met him, on one of the first hunts your folks let you come along on. You're pretty sure you're going to go to your grave still carrying that damn torch.

"You're young," the demon says, "you're attractive, you could easily find some nice, emotionally available guy to settle down with." He smiles again, like a politician who'll promise anything to get your vote. "I could do that for you. Wipe every memory of him from your mind. You wouldn't even remember that he existed."

And God help you, you almost say yes. 

"Sorry," you say, your voice shaking with the effort to get the words out, "but the price is too high," and the demon looks at you almost sadly. Then he smokes out, moving on to the next hunter on the list. 

You check the night manager's pulse. It's strong and steady; his family won't lose their husband and father. Not tonight.

Then you close the door, grab your cell phone, and then the bottle you got from the liquor store. Because the first call you've gotta make is the last person in the world you want to talk to right now.

It's nobody's fault, least of all his. You're an adult; you know by now that nobody owes you anything, especially not returning your feelings.

But there is no way in Hell you are talking to Dean Winchester sober tonight.


End file.
